


The Man in the Basement

by koalathebear



Series: Max [4]
Category: Homeland
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-20 15:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9498983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: Set during6.02 The Man in the Basementso there are of course spoilers for that.  Nothing exciting, I just felt like trying to fill in a few gaps.  Canon-compliant - mostly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Refers to [Comfort](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3141338) an earlier fic in the [Max series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/640028) but it's not necessary to have read it.

It doesn't surprise Max when he gets the call from Carrie. It had only been a matter of time, something he'd made very clear to Carrie the last time he'd gone to the hospital to visit Quinn, only to find out that he'd discharged himself and had been taken home by Carrie of all people. 

This was never going to end well and Max had told her as much when he'd phoned her to find out where Quinn was.

"Well what choice do I have, Max? You didn't see what he was like today …" her voice twisted with pain.

That's what she thinks. As usual, Max sees more than everyone else and with each visit to the man who used to be Peter Quinn, he understands a little more.

He used to give Virgil a hard time for jumping when Carrie called … but here he is pulling on his socks, looking for his shoes, staring at his grizzled face in the hallway mirror before he steps outside to make his way to Carrie's house. But he's not the same as Virgil. Not at all. He's doing this for Peter Quinn, not for Carrie Mathison.

He repeats the mantra to himself … pausing when Frannie, a friend and the friend's mother walk past him. "Hey Uncle Max!" Frannie calls.

"It's just - " he waves, they vanish out of earshot. " - Max …" he trails off, watching as Frannie twists around to wave at him enthusiastically.

Brody's bastard. Carrie's daughter. 

When Carrie opens the front door, her eyes have a familiar expression in them - a little wild and a lot desperate. Relief floods over her face when she sees him and she leads him into the kitchen, speaking rapidly.

"He needs to take his meds for seizures," she tells him, indicating the pile of orange pill vials that seems disconcertingly large.

"Wow. Uh, I see why he thinks he's being over-medicated."

"These I'm not even dealing with. It's just the Primidone. It's downstairs by his bed. I left it there."

"After he threw the glass at you."

"It was a coffee mug," Carrie corrects automatically.

"He say why he did that?" Max asks her evenly.

"No."

"You ask?" he questions mildly, even though he knows the answer.

"I'm telling myself it's the drugs talking … I got to go. I-I owe you," she tells him and then it's quiet again, the air still and a measure of calm returns to the house now that Carrie's gone.

He hears the sound of the door leading up from the basement being unlocked. Quinn comes through, as unkempt, sullen and grim as he was the last time Max saw him in the hospital just a week earlier.

The two men stare at one another for a long moment. "What did she say?"

"That you're being kind of an asshole," Max tells him bluntly, taking a degree of creative license when summarising the gist of the day's conversations with Carrie. "Also there's some pills you need to take for seizures."

Quinn cuts him off. "I need food." His voice is terse but not unfriendly.

"Okay."

"In cans." The door closes and Max stares after Quinn, an unreadable expression in his eyes. At least he's talking.

*

"This is kind of everything in the canned department," Max remarks as he sets down the assortment of canned goods before Quinn. Quinn stares at him, his gaze blank and uncommunicative. Not hostile or unfriendly. Just empty.

"I could warm up the soup if you want," he offers. "And you need to take two of these every eight hours." He opens the pill bottle and Quinn holds his hand out. Max watches as Quinn takes the pills from him but allows them to drop onto the tray one by one. He debates whether or not to say something but refrains. Quinn's not going to take them until he's good and ready and he doesn't want a can thrown at his head. 

His nostrils twitch despite himself and it's with an effort that he doesn't let the pity show in his eyes. "Something down here doesn't smell very good. I think it might be you."

"I think it might be you," Quinn counters unsmilingly - but it's something. Max isn't sure quite what though.

"Why not take a shower?" he suggests.

"Just get dirty again," Quinn replies flatly. Unanswerably. He's not just talking about dirt. Max knows where Carrie found Quinn a couple of days earlier, he knows what Quinn's been doing - that the man has hit rock bottom and then some.

"So, what happened?" Max asks, gesturing towards the broken glass on the door.

"Someone was trying to break in," Quinn tells him blandly.

"Yeah. Carrie was. Only she can't really break in 'cause it's her house. You know that, right? That you're in Carrie's house?" 

Quinn ignores him and goes to turn on the radio. Max continues, undeterred. "That you said you wanted to live here, she said okay? So why are you giving her such a hard time?"

"You done?" Quinn asks, not looking at him.

"No," Max told him firmly. "[ _First of all - you need to pull yourself up out of ... this …clean up and for God's sake, shave and clean yourself up,_](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3141338)" he quotes ruthlessly.

"Max. With all due respect, the guy who told you that shit was an idiot. Fuck off. Please."

"I'll be upstairs if you need me," Max tells him not wanting to push his luck. Carrie won't thank him for any more broken glass.

*

It's isn't enough that Carrie has him babysitting Quinn. To his bemusement, she has him back on sleuthing duties again… He tells himself that it's very different from when Virgil used to jump to heel whenever she phoned. It's not the same at all - although it feels like the bad old days all over again.

"She was seeing him on the side. All very secret. Okay, I am sending it... now."

"Got it," Max replies as he stares at the photograph of a young man and a young woman, snuggled close and posing for the camera as if they genuinely care for another. It's probably a facebook photo, chronicling the journey of relationship.

"I'm sorry to rope you into this. She made me promise, total discretion. You know, she's underage."

"Right. I-I'll keep her out of it," Max replies absently as he enlarges the photograph.

"His name's Saad Mahsud. Supposedly lived in Pittsburgh before here."  
Max listens as he crops the photograph, removing the girl from the image. "Well, it's a good photo. If he's in the NTC database, they'll find a match." He clicks to upload. "Done."

"So how's it going over there?" she asks him.

"It just got started," he replies, slightly confused at her question.

"No. I-I mean the patient."

"Oh, uh, on the positive side, he hasn't broken any more windows," he tells her in a wry voice.

There's a moment's silence. 

"Max."

"Yeah?" he asks a little warily, really not wanting to get into all of this with Carrie - it's a path that twists and winds, more like a tortuous maze than a road actually. Babysitting Quinn he can deal with, being Carrie Mathison's agony aunt is too big a job for anyone.

"Uh, I'll check in later," she tells him changing her mind for some reason.

"Sure," Max replies, more than a little relieved.

*  
When Carrie answers his call, she sounds a little breathless, a little anxious. "Max, everything okay?"

"Yeah."

"How's he doing?" she asks, a trace of panic in her voice.

"Quinn? Oh, he's fine, I guess, but that's not why I'm calling. It's about that photo you sent me."

"Saad Mahsud?" she questions urgently.

"Yeah, only that's not his name. Well, it wasn't in Pittsburgh, anyway. I'm sending you now. So, they got a quick hit off the Pennsylvania DMV. Tyrone Banks Jr. Then I looked around and I found this on Facebook. Check out the guy in the white T-shirt."

"Well, who are these people?" she sounds genuinely confused.

"Steel City Gang. His crew. All of them now in federal prison on drug charges. Everyone except for the confidential informant who put them all away."

"Confidential informant? You mean Saad?"

"Has to be. Right?"

"Hey, Reda. Come here," he hears her call to someone else in the room with her.

"What is it?" he hears a man's voice ask. 

"Hey, Max. I'm putting you on speaker."

"Who are they?" a man's voice asks.

"Tell him what you just told me."

"This guy you're looking for, Saad Mahsud, he's working for the FBI."

Max hears a door open and close … "Hold on a second." He looks around and sees Quinn hurrying away from the house as fast as he can shuffle. Crap. "Uh, Carrie, I got to go," he mutters and hangs up.

*

He tries to stay out of sight when tailing Quinn the two blocks that it takes to get to his destination. He doesn't really fancy having an angry Quinn grab him around the throat and tell him to fuck off. Not that Quinn's really up to that sort of thing anymore – but it pays to be safe rather than sorry and Quinn is more than a little unpredictable these days.

At the local bodega, he hides behind a shelf but without even turning around Quinn outs him, telling the owner that Max will pay… 

Then he watches in horror as Quinn's dazed confusion and slurred speech rapidly becomes a full blown seizure before he collapses to the dirty floor, convulsing violently.

"Quinn. You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay. Help is coming. Shh. Shh," he comforts him, even if he's not sure if he's telling the truth or not. He stares down into Quinn's contorted face helplessly, his heart twisting. He is never going to get used to the sight of the proud and fearless Peter Quinn being like this...

*

"Sir, do you know where you are?" the paramedic asks Quinn. 

"On the floor," Quinn answers her.

"I understand you'd rather not go to the hospital. You want to tell me why?"

"Because I'm fine."

"You just had a grand mal seizure. You're not fine. How are your eyes?" she questions him.

"Ow," he replies flippantly and Max rolls his eyes.

"How about your ears? Any ringing? I'd feel a lot better if you'd let us take you in. Doc can run an EEG. Sir?"

"Max will take care of me," Quinn tells her without looking Max's way.

"Max?" she questions, sounding more than a little confused. "I understand he's your business manager."

"No. He's my babysitter."

"Okay. I don't like it, but if you want, I can release you AMA... Against Medical Advice. You'll have to sign here." The paramedic is clearly frustrated but she and her partner leave.

"You okay?" Max asks gently after the door of the bodega closes.

"I'm a fucking mutant. No, I'm not okay. Don't tell Carrie."

"All right," Max replies even though he and Quinn both know that there's no way he's going to be able to keep something like this from Carrie.

*

They walk back to Carrie's apartment slowly. Max doesn't try to help - he knows better. Instead he just keeps the pace slow, stays in step beside Quinn and talks about shit that he knows Quinn probably doesn't care about… About how hard it was to find a good place to live in New York, about what Virgil is doing these days - which is not much …

After what feels like hours they finally get back to Quinn's room. "Do you want me to go to the hardware store and see if I can fix your door?" he asks.

"Nope," Quinn replies sharply. "I'll do it. One day. Maybe."

He watches as Quinn staggers into his room and collapses heavily on the bed closing his eyes momentarily.

Max opens the can of tinned ham, pulls out some Coke into a glass and starts towards the door. Before he leaves the room, he pauses and speak softly. "Quinn – take the meds, OK. I've lost enough friends."

Quinn doesn't reply but Max knows that he's been heard. 

*

Max is upstairs talking to Frannie and her sitter when there's a shuffling sound and Quinn sticks his head through the door.

Before he can say anything, Frannie's rushing forward. "Peter Quinn!" she calls out exultantly.

"Yeah, that's me," Quinn tells her, staring at her warily as if she's a strange bug.

"Frannie, come back here," Max calls out to her.

"Do you want some juice?" she asks Quinn who holds out his hand.

"Sure. Gotta take these," he tells her and Max can see the Primadone in Quinn's palm.

Quinn watches on, slightly bemused as Frannie insists on pouring the juice for him herself. "This is apple juice - I like it better than orange juice," she tells him.

"Yeah but it looks like p- …" at Max's reproving look, he trails off and just picks up the glass, tosses the pills in his mouth and swallows.

"Join us?" Max invited him and Quinn shakes his head emphatically. 

"I'm beat … thanks for the juice," he tells Frannie who beams at him and takes the glass from him. He stare at Frannie for a long moment and then he vanishes downstairs again.

Frannie watches him go, a slightly wistful expression on her small face. 

*  
"How's he doing?" Carrie demands when she gets home that night.

"Sleeping. Look, he had a seizure today... at the bodega a couple of blocks from here," Max replies trying to use his voice to calm her and not let her panic the way he knows she's going to anyway.

"Why didn't you call me?" her voice is slightly shrill.

"Because the paramedics came, and there was nothing you could do about it. And honestly, he didn't want you to know. He still doesn't. So try not to make a big deal out of it.

"It is a big deal," she declares emphatically.

"Not really. Not if you think about everything he's been through. He's not happy, Carrie," he starts to tell her, fully aware that he is telling her the obvious.

"I know..." there's a miserable note in her voice. Her lip trembles slightly.

"No, I mean... he's really not. And... and he's got this strange thing about you, which is not helping. You gonna be okay here?" he asks feeling more than a little guilty at the expression on her face.

"Yeah. Sure. I don't know. I'm trying," she replies, her expression and her voice helpless.

"Call me if you need anything. Anytime...." Max tells her and he realises he's not just doing this for Quinn anymore …


End file.
